Chad woke up. His arms and legs ached. He had a killer headache. He felt crusty all over. He struggled to move. The semi stiff monster inside him hardened, and doubled in size. Chad screamed, "Brad!" He remembered.
Damn, he was always saying that he wanted to be the ultimate jock. By which he had meant an athlete that excelled at every sport: football, wrestling, water polo, baseball, and gymnastics had been crossed off his list. But now that he was the ultimate jock , he was humiliated, furious, and ached literally with every fiber of his now cotton and Spandex being. This wasn't what he meant by ultimate jock! He didn't want to be anybody's jockstrap, let alone his big brother's. Brad would shove his face in it every chance he got. Oh, gawd, it couldn't be worse than having Brad's monster cock expanding, and exploding again in Chad's shrunken face, ass and torso. Chad started to sob. With each sob, the mesh fabric of the pouch imprisoning Brad's manhood would contract and release.
This had happened earlier when Brad had discovered how to access Chad's memories, and triggered a bad one. For sleeping Chad, he relived a nightmare experience in his dream, and started sobbing. Brad was thrilled, his jockstrap would jerk him off while he lay there doing nothing. He was constantly activating Chad's nightmares. He figured Chad was unconscious, and wouldn't remember.
Chad was drenched in hot molten goo, as his brother's cock exploded in him. There was loud music, and flashing lights, and a male voice laughed, "Brad likes being our fuck toy, he just blew a load without anyone fucking him."
As Brad's cock went limp, Chad realized that Brad was trusted up like an animal at Zeb's farm.
"Nah, the stud just had a wet dream. He won't remember any of the last few days. At least nothing specific after he crashed our Gamma Alpha Ypsilon party. Time for another shot of animal tranquilizer," said the voice, "Hey, Jude, tranq time!"
"Huh, oh, yeah," answered another voice.
"Hey, who wants to play fuck the stud!" a different drunken male voice shouted.
"In a minute," answered the first voice, "little Braddy needs her shots." Then he giggled.
"He's not got any viruses does he?" said the drunken voice.
"He didn't when he got here, but he might have now, after 3 days as our party animal. Don't worry, Jude's pumping him full of antibiotics, as well as male hormones and animal tranquilizer. He'll be super horny and healthy, but sore for weeks to come."